Gorgeous
but lacking. Director Jingle Ma's romantic drama gets
the surface details right - pretty stars and a heartrending
situation - but the emotions seem more cursory than
compelling. Very watchable, but not noteworthy.

Review
by Kozo:

You
know the story. Two people fall in love, but let circumstance,
insecurity, or just plain denial get in the way of
a blessed happily ever after ending. If you didn't
experience it, you've probably seen it, heard about
it, or maybe glimpsed it in another film, drama, or
pulpy romance novel. Jingle Ma's new film Happy
Birthday possesses this tried-and-true plotline,
but knocking the film for its lack of an original
storyline would be wrong because it's something that
really happens to people. People do let their most
cherished relationships go without putting up a proper
fight, and the consequences can frequently be heartbreaking,
to both the would-be lovers and whoever happens to
be watching. The same is true for Happy Birthday,
which posits a storyline that should tug at the heartstrings
of anyone who's had love then pushed it away. Thankfully - or maybe not - the filmmakers have eased our heartbreak
by making the film less touching than it could have
been. Though it delivers some potentially tearjerking
plot twists, Happy Birthday is ultimately light
and bittersweet, and not heavy and heartwrenching.

Mi is a single woman
in her late twenties who's unattached despite the
fact that she's a talented pianist and looks just
like Rene Liu. Mi seems content with loneliness, except
on her birthday, when her expectation of a message
from her ex-boyfriend Nam (Louis Koo) lifts her spirits.
Nam is married now, but once upon a time the two looked
like they would be longtime partners. The film details
their tender first beginnings in flashback, when the
ultra-popular Nam ditched many potential girlfriends
for the sometimes difficult Mi, who doubted their
relationship, doubted her attractiveness, and frequently
poo-pooed the idea that Nam would really go for her
long-term. Nam responded by being inscrutably charming,
and the two eventually became boyfriend-girlfriend.
Circumstance and bad timing lead them to separate
and finally become best friends, though that eventuality
is partially due to self-defeating design. But the
attraction is clearly always there, and Nam seems
like he's going to stay strong and make Mi his one-and-only - that is, once she gets back from her schooling
in Japan and he ditches his string of replacement
girlfriends. But somewhere along the way, things went
wrong and Nam got married. How, given his obvious
ardent love for Mi, did that ever happen?

Good question. The big
deal between Nam and Mi is their frustrating lack
of disclosure, which is seen from Mi's side in her
constant reticence, and her self-defeating tendency
to push for a platonic relationship. The situation
is recognizable and thus frustrating; how many of
us have said, "Let's just be friends," only
to mean the exact opposite? The film pushes these
moments full force, as the couple's joy in togetherness
gives way to the fear of commitment. But the movie
itself is less affecting than it sounds. The film
relates the couple's decade-long "will they or
won't they" dance with affecting detail, but
the characters' inability to express their love - the very emotional hook which gives the film complexity
and audience identification - gives way to something
else, namely a fourth quarter plot reveal that's more
tired than touching. The plot revelation changes one
character from an identifiable individual into a character
type commonly seen in Asian Cinema romances. Frankly,
they do this waaaaaay too often; the plot reveal is
so common, a likely response could be, "What,
again?"

Also, Nam and Mi are not
really that likable, as both are inordinately selfish,
choosing never to let go when doing so would actually
spare some hurt. Of course, this detail feels completely
real, as people are frequently this selfish and shortsighted,
and will hold onto others without committing or cutting
ties. The push and pull of Nam and Mi's relationship
seems familiar, which is why it's ultimately easy
to enjoy the film's slow, sometimes meandering journey.
As Happy Birthday is essentially about not
getting together, most of the drama is incidental
or even mundane, such as potential (and sometimes
pathetically ignored) romantic competition, cute hotpot
dinners, and Nam's yearly "Happy Birthday"
message. There's also tougher stuff - time spent
apart, the death of a loved one - but the film ultimately
feels manufactured, albeit in a cuddly, light manner.
Yee Chung-Man's clean art direction and Jingle Ma's
soft-focus cinematography give the film a beautiful
and conspicuously manufactured sheen, and add to the
light, even airy feel of the film. It all feels very
attractive and pleasant, but it also feels cursory
and superficial, like a bittersweet Hallmark Card
that softens the situation by talking around it. There's
a tough message somewhere in there, but you have to
dig to get to it.

Still, the actors help
matters, bringing their own individual strengths to
the material. Louis Koo's ladykiller charm has never
been more effective than here, though when Koo gets
serious, his expressions still smack of obvious acting.
Nam is secondary to Mi, however, which is fine because
it allows for Rene Liu to take center stage. Liu carries
the film exceptionally well, the right amount of emotion
trickling through her character's insecurity and reserve.
She makes Mi a real, believable person, though at
one or two moments her character loses consistency,
opting for showy screenwriting moments instead of
realistic reactions. At one key moment, Mi loses her
cool when leaving a message on someone's voicemail,
and the moment feels false. Mi's steadfast and self-defeating
protection of her own emotions should never waver.
It's what defines her character, and having her break
down on the phone seems like an excuse to give Rene
Liu a teary monologue. The other, more nitpicky issue
is that Liu and even Koo are clearly too old for these
roles, especially when they're supposed to be college
students. At least Lawrence Chou, who plays Nam's
roommate and Mi's best pal, looks the part of a college
kid.

Happy Birthday comes
to a hackneyed close thanks to its clichéd
ending, which was probably more affecting the first
twenty times it was done. It's sad when a dramatic
device starts to feel simply like a screenwriting
shortcut, but that's what seems to happen here, and
even though the device occurred in the original story,
it still feels like a letdown on screen. It's getting
so with Asian Cinema that we should start judging
a film's merit IN SPITE of an overused cinema cliché - so hey, that's what we'll do here. Putting aside
the last twenty minutes, Happy Birthday is
engagingly bittersweet, with effective performances
and a sometimes genuine-seeming heartbreak. It's also
perfunctory, episodic, and far too cursory to be that
affecting, resulting in what feels like an incomplete
motion picture. The pointless Richie Ren cameo, where
he shows up in the background as himself for no particular
reason whatsoever, seals the deal on this too-commercial
romance. Happy Birthday isn't really one to
remember, and indeed it's a whole lot less than it
should be. However, it occasionally conjures up enough
familiar emotion to warrant a sad, and even sweet
nod of approval. (Kozo 2007)